


Reckless Abandon

by CaptainMisanthropist



Category: My Chemical Romance, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2720468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainMisanthropist/pseuds/CaptainMisanthropist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie Winchester, Kansas born and raised, is forced to move in with her mom and fiance in Trenton. Annie barely knows her mom, her mom abandoned her at the age of three, so moving in with her is a whole 'nother story. When Annie moves to Jersey, she expects the worst, but is hit with the best. She has a great house, and she meets a boy; Frank Iero. Frank is your average angsty punk to Annie, but little does she know that Frank's a hunter just like her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Annie, you almost ready?" Lisa calls from downstairs. I throw the last bit of clothes into the last suitcase. "Uh, yeah! I have one more thing to do, I'll be down in a minute!" I yell back. I grab my duffle and shove the forty-five from under my pillow in. "Looks like that's everything..." I murmur, the CDs, the clothes, and the weapons. I put on the leather jacket Pam gave me, and walk down slowly downstairs with my suitcases and bag. Right now, I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to punch everything in existence. Lucy'd only called dad just two days ago, and I already have to leave. They argued for most of the day yesterday. 

I stood outside the door, praying that I didn't have to go. Praying that somehow, he convinced her to leave me be. "Lucy, for the last damn time! It's been years, you barely even know her! You're the one that left her with me, because you didn't want her!" He yelled, causing me to flinch. "I can't believe you, I'm not letting her move in with you."Then it was silent. "No, don't get the authorities involv- Yes, I know that she's legally your daugh- Fine. Fine, dammit! But only with her coming home on holidays." And it was over, after hours of arguing they'd both settled on an agreement. 

Now, I have to move in with my biological mother. I don't even have any say-so in all of this, I have no choice but to move in with Lucy all the way in New Jersey. "You okay?" Ben asks. I nod, putting down my things. "Just thinking." I say plainly. "I'm really gonna miss you, An." He frowns, "I'm gonna miss you too, Ben... Y'know, you're my brother. Maybe not by blood, but you are. You mean a lot to me, I- Uh- I just wanted you to know that." I reply, taking a seat next to him on the couch. "And you're my sister." He smiles, "And at least you get to come back on holidays, and who knows. Maybe you'll get to move back soon." I try to smile. "Not soon enough, though." Lisa walks through the front door. 

"You ready?" She asks. I nod, "As I'll ever be." She looks at me and gives me a sad smile. "Your dad and Sam's waiting for you outside." I nod then turn to Ben and give him a hug. "I love you, man." I whisper as tears begin to brim my eyes. "Love you, too." He answers. We hold the hug for a few seconds more, then I go and hug Lisa. "I love you, too. You're basically my mom, since you're the closest thing I've ever had to one." I squeeze her tight, "So thanks." I say, trying to smile.

"Don't thank me. It's always been my pleasure. You're my daughter." She smiles. Tears spring to my eyes as I hold onto her, not wanting to let go. Today's already ripping and tearing at my insides. "Before I sob all over you, I should probably go." I smile sadly. I let go of her and grab my things. "Whenever you come back for your birthday, you know I'm going to make you some banana creme pie." She smiles. I smile back. "Oh, yes!" I cheer causing Lisa to laugh. "See you around." I say. "You better keep in contact!" Ben calls. "I will, don't worry!" I yell before closing the door behind me. 

I wipe the tears out of my eyes and put my wavy hair into a bun thingy. I throw my stuff into the back of the Impala then turn to my uncle. Uncle Sam, haha. It's ironic, if you ask me. "Hey, I wanna give you something." He states. I teeter my head from side to side, "What is it?" He takes out something familiar wrapped in a cloth. It's the demon knife. "You're giving me the knife?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow. He nods, "I figured you'd have to protect yourself whenever you're gone and this would make it easier." He hands me the knife, still wrapped in it's cloak. I rub my thumb across the smooth material, I can't believe he gave it to me. "Thanks, man! It means a lot." I smile, hugging him. "No problem!" He laughs. We get into the car and I stick the knife in one of the inside pockets of my jacket. 

"Hey, An?" Dad asks, putting in one of his tapes, it being an Ozzy tape. "Yeah, Da-Dean?" He laughs at the nickname. I don't really call him dad much, it seems. "I- Uh, I'm sorry that I couldn't do anything about you having to, y'know.." He narrows his eyes at me through the mirror. "It's fine, don't apologize... I'm not getting over the fact yet. I'm still kinda taking it in actually. It can't be that bad over there, the only true downside is that I don't get to see you guys everyday anymore." He nods. I can tell he's beating himself up on the inside over this. There's nothing he could've done, not legally at least. I just don't get how a lady with full intentions of abandoning her kid if the dad didn't take her, can have the guts to call for her kid fourteen years later fully expecting to have her. "I mean if she really wanted me, she would've kept me..." I murmur. Dad looks at me through the mirror again. 

"I know. She abandons her kid, then expects me to just give you back easy. Ridiculous." He scowls. I just keep quiet, trying to sort out my feelings. As we start getting further and further from the house, Mama, I'm Coming Home floods into my ears.

I'm starting to get that feeling, you know the one where you feel like something's missing in your life? That feeling. Right in my gut, already. This is the last thing I would've ever wanted, to leave my family for an absent mother I barely know. This is ridiculous.

* * * 

We pull into the driveway of the large two-story house, the sound of pebbles crunching under the tires filling the heavy atmosphere. There's two expensive cars parked in the open garage, and the lawn is perfectly trimmed. I furrow my brows as I take a deep breath, grabbing my bags and opening the door. The smell of freshly cut grass and gasoline slaps me in the face like old whiskey. Dad and Sam get out of the car and DaDean immediately hugs me. "I'm sorry." Dad whispers. Tears slide down my cheeks as I keep quiet. I just keep hugging him, I feel as if I hold on long enough that everything will be okay. I can escape all of this. 

"I'm sorry, Ann. I love you, I trust that you'll stay safe and look out for Lucy." I nod into his chest. I don't want to let go, I want to keep holding him with all of my being. My eyes grow even more pressured as I let the tears overflow, pouring down my cheeks as I softly whimper. "It's okay." He coos. This is hard, I can't just leave the life I've known for all of my life. "I don't want to go in there, I hate the bitch." I whimper. He just hugs me tighter, and it seems like such a short time before he lets his arms go limp. I sniffle, whipping my eyes and nose.

Then, I grasp onto Sam. I wish that I could just back out of all of this, I wish I could just go home. "Love you, Ann. Keep yourself safe." He says softly before pushing me away. I pull my duffle further over my shoulder and sniffle one last bit. Dad kisses my forehead, then sends me to the door.

That nervous pit fills my stomach as I let go of one of my suitcases and raise my hand to knock. I knock once, twice, three times before the door is answered by a woman with a huge smile, dressed in a bright red sundress with curly strawberry-blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail. I turn back to my dad and uncle one last time, giving them a sad smile before stepping into the house. Her heels click on the mahogany flooring as she makes her way to me, giving me a hug and enveloping me in her strong musk of expensive perfume. "It's been a long time, eh?" She smiles. I nod.

I have no idea what to say to her, what could you say to her? What would you say to your so-called 'mother' who abandoned you as a child? "Uhm, you look... nice," She begins, "-there's a room upstairs I have reserved for you, you can go ahead and head up there I guess, make yourself comfortable. After all, this is your home now." Ugh, don't remind me. "By the way, Hank, your step-dad will be out of the shower soon, and I'm cooking manicotti for supper along with ricotta cheesecake for dessert." I nod in response. Pie could've been a really great choice, I guess not. But, cheesecake's okay I guess. 

"Are we like, Italian or something?" I ask. She nods, "My mom and dad, or your grandparents, as well as Hank's mom and dad are very traditional. I learned many traditional recipes as a kid. Hank's mother passed some onto me as well." I purse my lips. "That means I'm Italian then?" I ask. She nods, "Mixed with whatever your father is." That must explain why I tan so well and have a hankering for pasta all the time. I walk up to my room, admiring how clean and well put together the house is. Everything is perfect, the rug isn't slightly bunched up, none of the pictures are slightly crooked. The room is huge, the bed is queen sized, deep purple, perfectly made. The room is clean, the walls are a nice blank canvas waiting for me to plaster posters and clippings on. The floor is even clean, though it won't stay that way for long.

I throw my bags onto the bed and start whipping out all of my things, filling the closet with clothes, putting my cd's out, placing the 45' under my pillow, and placing my family picture on the bedside table. I take my ammo and all of my other weapons, and shove it all into one bag and push it under my bed. I plaster one of my batman posters to the wall beside my bed, followed by a Metallica one beside my door, and a Led Zeppelin one on the other side of my door and it all starts tying together. I take off my jacket and place it on the desk diagonal from my bed, then fling off my shoes. I take out my small cd player and put in my 'Dude Ranch' cd, then place it on the bed table. "Voila! Manifico!" I smile.

I flop onto the soft bed, and softly hum along. Y'know, maybe this stay won't be all that bad? After all, I can still call my family. Maybe I can just think of it as a vacation? Without my real family, I guess. 

I guess it all really just depends on how all of this goes, I don't start school until a week from now, thank god, and I haven't even met Hank yet. I really just hope for the best, she doesn't even know I'm a hunter yet, I don't really want her to know unless she absolutely needs to. She'd probably flip shit if she did find out. Speaking of hunting, I really need to demon-proof this house, I'd really rather not be rudely interrupted by demons while I'm here, that's the last thing I need. 

I hesitantly get off of the bed and exit my room, tiptoeing downstairs. This house is huge, is my mother rich or something? It's so abnormal and alien to me, everything is basically perfect in this house... There's a lot of windows, that's for sure. I think if I put salt in all of them they'd notice though... I'll just stick with putting devil's traps on the bottom of every rug. "You must be Annie." The sound of his deep voice makes me jump. I turn around, facing a man in a nice suit, just a plain black tuxedo with a red tie. "Yeah... You must be Hank? Is everyone in this home snazzy or?" He chuckles, with an unreadable expression on his face. 

"No, no. Your mother and I have to go out to an unveiling at my job after dinner, you can always come with us, you just have to dress formal." I crinkle my nose, dress formal? For no reasonable reason? "Haha, no I'm good. I'm just fine staying here." I smile. "Annie, Hank dinner!" Lucy yells. "Coming!" Hank and I yelling in unison. 

We both walk into the kitchen, and the smell of rich riccota cheese and tomato sauce slaps me in the face. "Smells great." I express. "It'll taste even better." She declares, handing me a plate. I take a seat at the end of the table, and dive in. I cut a piece of the manicotti with my fork and shove it into my mouth. "This is really great." I grumble, "Like, really really great." 

"Thank you." Lucy smiles. "Don't mention it." I smile, my mouth full of pasta and cheese. "So, Annie, what kind of stuff are you interested in?" Hank asks. I swallow my mouthful. "I dunno," I ponder. "Music and stuff, I guess." I shrug, there isn't much I do outside of hunting. 

"Oh, that's cool. You play any instruments?" He asks. "Eh, I used to play a little bit of guitar, but not so much anymore." Hank nods. "Play any sports?" He asks, I scoff. "No," I laugh, "I mean, I may do a little running and weight lifting here and there just to stay in shape, but no actual sports." I take the last big bite of the pasta roll, then take a gulp of water. "You like food though, don't you?" Lucy asks. I laugh, "Heck yeah. Food forever." I get up and rinse my plate off in the sink, then pour the rest of my water down with it as well. 

"I trust you'll be good whenever we're out?" Lucy asks. I nod, "Yeah. I'll probably just sleep and listen to music, to be honest. There isn't much I plan on doing today at least." She nods. I smile, then walk up to my room. I throw in my St. Anger cd, then flop down on my plushy bed waiting for them to leave.


	2. Stage Four

I lethargically rub my eyes, yawning. "What time is it.." I mumble to myself. My vision still slightly blurry from sleep, I walk into the bathroom connected to my room searching for a clock. I turn on the light, then turn back around, spotting one above the toilet. "Mm- 11:39am, wow." I widen my eyes, "I missed breakfast." I frown, walking back out of the bathroom and to my closet. I take out a random pair of jeans and a black tank-top. 

I throw on the clothes and spray some dry shampoo throughout my hair, then pulling it back into a loose and messy bun. I put on my black Doc Martens and lace them up all the way, tying the long laces around the top twice. I turn off my music player and grab my wallet and worn slouchy backpack before stomping down the stairs and running into the cold and empty kitchen. Lucy and Hank both have day jobs, Lucy's a fashion designer and cosmetologist and Hank is some sort of business man. Needless to say, they aren't home during the day, and they make a lot of money. 

I open the freezer and rummage through looking for an ice-pop, the chilly air nipping at my face the entire time. I let out a triumphant squeak as my phalanges come across a box. I take out the box of unscathed fruit pops and take out two blue ones before putting the box and shutting the door. I'm still not very used to this place, and it's been four days. It's so big, there's even a big back yard with a pool, as well as an attic and a basement. It reminds me of one of those houses you'd see in a horror movie, where I serial killer comes in and murders everyone. Peachy, I know. 

I grab the extra house key from the kitchen table, then exit the house locking the door behind me. I cut open one of the icepops and happily stroll down the street of the serene neighbourhood. Everyone here is so happy, and it kind of weirds me out. If you're sad, someone notices and like bakes you casserole or throws you a party, it's super weird. And I've noticed that there's no graveyards near here, I had to walk a couple miles yesterday before I found one. I'm going to it again today. I find graveyards so peaceful. Everyone there is at rest and have just accepted death, or at least usually. 

I dash to the other side of the street and under the nice shady trees, telling me that I'm getting closer and closer to the small graveyard. I suck some of the icepop juice from the plastic before pushing some of the frozen bits up for me to nibble on. I walk a few more steps before my hands find the warm iron gate to the large cemetery. I snap a few small limbs from trees and I slowly walk the path through the cemetery that leads to the mausoleum in the back. There's other mausoleums here of course, but I just chose that one because of it's intricate designs and it's chipped, worn out structure.

As I approach the beautiful structure, the sound of a guitar swarms in around me. I walk slower, more hestitantly so that whoever it is doesn't hear me. I tiptoe around the mausoleum and his voice begins to serenade me, "If I face my fear, would the skies be all but clear? Probably not, then again- I've always held my doubts so close to my heart, that these frames trap all my better days... There they stay, frozen and unscathed- Well I've traveled far, back to the start, and I've found some scars in places I have never shown to anyone I don't know why I took so long to get back home." I step on an old leave, causing it crunch. As I hop back on reflex, the music stops. 

I walk to the side of the mausoleum he's at and smile a cheeky smile. "I might've been kind of creeping on you a little, but I just want to say that what you were just playing was amazing. What song is that?" I smile. The dark brown haired-kind-of-frosted tipped boy with hazel eyes looks up at me. 

"I wrote it myself." He says quietly, my eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yeah uh- It's about a Columbian trapeze artists that I saw one day at a circus." He smiles. "You're great, man." I laugh. He nods, "Thanks." I probably made him slightly uncomfortable, oh no. "Uh, I'm Annie." I introduce, sitting down next to him. "I'm Frank."

I smile, "Frank... Sorry if I weirded you out by creepin' on you. I just didn't want you to stop playing." He shrugs, "It's fine, I don't really mind. I never really see anyone else out here anyways." I glance at his face and notice a nose ring, pierced on the same side as my own. "Nice piercing, I've got one too. Except mine's a stud." He examines my face and nods. 

"I've never seen you around here before?" He throws out. "Yeah, I just moved in with my mom and stepdad a few days ago." He bites his lip. "Why'd ya move, if you don't mind me asking?" I breathe in deeply. "I don't mind. I moved because my mother wanted me back after fourteen years." I say bluntly. He furrows his brows. "That fucked up, man. And how old are you?" 

"Sixteen." I say, sucking out the last bit of juice from my first icepop. "Wow. That's really fucked up." I go to open my other icepop, which is now half melted, but then hold it out to Frank. He raises his eyebrows. "Take it." He grabs the icepop and rips it open with his teeth. "We better be friends now, I sacrificed my icepop for you." He laughs, "Definitely friends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how short this is, Wattpad made it seem a lot longer.


	3. She Smiled Sweetly

"Beep, beep, beep, bee-" I slam my fist on the off button of my alarm clock, letting out a loud groan. I fling my sheets off and lethargically roll off of my bed. "Fuck...school..ugh." I groan, ripping off my pajama pants. I pull on my worn out blue jeans, of which have a gaping hole in one knee. I change into my cut Dracula tank top then walk into the bathroom, my bare feet crinkling at the touch of the cold tiles.

I put on some eyeliner, flicking the ends up to make them winged, then some matte red lipstick. I nod at myself in the mirror, slightly smirking, before I exit the bathroom. I slip on my socks, followed by my cherry Doc Martens and my leather jacket. I smile, remembering the exact day that Pam gave it to me. "One day, you'll grow into it and it'll stay with you for a lifetime, if you treat it right." She told me. I thought I'd never grow into the long arms and torso, but here I am, I grew into it perfectly and I've had it for merely seven years.

I throw my pocket knife into my inside jacket pocket and zip up my backpack. I run down the stairs, dragging the stupid bag behind me. I'm nervous as to what today'll hold, 'cause I haven't switched schools too often. Plus, this is Jersey. I only know one guy here, and that's Frank. Hopefully, he'll be able to help me. If not, I'm definitely royally screwed.

I pop two slices of pumpkin bread into the toaster, pumpkin bread is too amazing. I pour myself some of the warm coffee that Hank had left in the pot. I gulp down the black liquid, my body awakening as the bitterness spreads through my mouth and down my throat, "That'll wake ya' up in the morning." I laugh. As soon as the toast pops up, I butter it then sit down at the table as I pluck pieces from the slices and pop them into my mouth.

I glance at the clock, shoving the last bit of toast into my mouth. "7:45" I hum. "Too early." I scoff. I really cannot wait to get out of school, as if I already didn't have to worry about hunting- I have to worry about long division and whether I cited my pictures correctly. I'd much rather focus on hunting full time. 

I finish the last piece of my toast, wishing it a goodbye as the spicy and sweet treat disappeared into my mouth. "October in nearly a month and a half!" I sing to nobody before downing the black coffee like a shot of liquor. I put the cup in the sink, grab my backpack, then run out of the door.

I've never felt so lucky to live close to the school, because I am not waking up at six for nothing. I'll probably be late everyday, though. I'm late for everything. I walk worm puddles and out of the neighbourhood, humming along the way. 

My stomach bubbles, sending shockwaves of nervousness throughout my body as the school enters my sight. "Oh, dear lord." I mumble, feeling as if I could vomit all over the place. "How did Dad and Sam do it?" I ask as I walk up the sidewalk leading to the school. The sound of people conversing out in the courtyard fills my ears. I keep my sight focused on the front of the building until my hands read the cold steel handle of the door. A loud ring sounds throughout the school, I swear to god people could hear it from Africa.

I move to the side of the building, out of the crowd's way. I stare at all of the unfamiliar faces, frowning to myself until I see that familiar grin from the cemetery. "Good morning!" Frank smiles, joining my side away from all the people. "Hey!" I grin, "Thank god you showed up, man." I say relieved. 

"You got your schedule?" He asks. I nod, "Yeah, it's in my bag, though. I'll get it out later. I know my first block, which is all I care about." He raises his eyebrows in response. "My first block is English, Mrs. Westboroh." 

Frank smiles, "Good. Because that's mine." I shove my hands into my jacket pockets as we walk through the crowded hallways. "So, you like Dracula?" I nod, "Hell yeah! The movie, the book. Bram Stoker, man. Genius!" I ramble on about how great it is until he adds in something about Tim Burton.

"Burton, he's such a talented directer, producer, writer- Ugh, what he did with Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands!" Frank proclaims. "Oh, I must concur! Tim Burton is life. Frankenweenie is too great!" I laugh. We arrive at the classroom, an older woman with a warm smile greets us as we walk in. "Sit wherever, I really don't care." 

I take a sit beside her desk, which has a burning candle that smells like pumpkins wafting its smell all over the back area. Frank takes the open seat right beside me, throwing his things under his desk. The second bell rings as the last few people from the halls scramble into the class. "Good morning, class! I am Mrs. Westboroh, and not the church, I swear!" She chuckles, "Hope you guys are enjoying your day so far. I'm going to call role, get to know you guy's names and faces- Thee I'm going to give you an about me paper to fill out, so I can get to know a little about you guys and what you like." She is so cheery, I hope she's always like this!

She begins to call out names and I subconsciously tune out, humming some song I went to sleep listening to. "Annie Winchester?" I raise my hand, "Prrresent!" I smile, rolling my tongue.

Frank looks at me, his eyes slightly widened, but he stays quiet. "Winchester... I swear I've heard that name before. Your father? Smart, sarcastic?" She ponders. I laugh, "Oh! Or is it the one who wore leather? Cocky?" She asks. I laugh again, nodding. "Ya' look like him's why I asked." She adds before going back to calling names.

She spends most of the class talking to us as we work on the about me papers, going over policies and procedures. Each class lasts for about an hour and thirty minutes, which I actually don't think I'll mind spending with Mrs. Westboroh. She doesn't seem like she'd make our life hell. The same goes for Mrs. Gloria, the drama teacher, who is my second block class. I don't have that class with Frank, but I have it with some kid Grace. She looked rad, she might be rad. 

Now is lunch hour, should be called lunch half-an-hour. My hair bounces in it's contained bun as I walk towards the lunch room. "Annie!" Frank shouts from the corner of the hall. I cut through the crowd of people and join him. "You wanna go out to the courtyard with me? There's this spot me and a few people go. I don't think they're here today though." I nod, pretty much down with anything. It's loud and it sucks in here. 

Frank leads me outside and we walk behind the school to this huge weeping willow tree, out of everyone's sight. "Whelp, here it is!" He smiles, sitting down under it and leaning on its trunk. I sit down next to him and take in the scenery. "So, how are you liking your first day?" Frank asks. 

I shrug, "I dunno, school's always kind of made me want to poke my eyes out, to be honest. This school's nice I suppose." He pulls a bag out of his backpack that's full of pieces of candy. "You want a piece?" He holds the bag open for me, "It's mostly candy from last Halloween." I grab an eyeball candy along with a warhead.

"Grazie." I thank. "Prego!" I look at him, surprised that he actually replied to me in Italian. "You speak Italian?" I ask. 

"I am part Italian. Runs in my dads side of the family." He answers. I smile, "Same here actually, except it runs in my moms side." He nods, silence takes over the conversation. "So your da-" He closes him mouth mid sentence. I cock an eyebrow, nearly positive he almost asked something about my dad.

"What?" I ask. He just shakes his head, "Nothing. Uh- On your paper, in first block, you said you like to hunt?" I nod. He probably thinks I kill innocent animals like, deer or mooses, now. Which is depressing, because they're adorable- Why would you want to kill them?

"Uhm, yeah. I, uh, I hunt... I hunt bugs, y'know...those praying mantises!" I laugh awkwardly. Good going, An. Bugs. I pull at the foil on the chocolate eye, ripping off small pieces and letting them float to the ground.

"Me too, actually." He adds, "I don't kill the bugs. I'm against animal cruelty, I don't hunt rabbits or anything. I'm actually Vegetarian. I don't even like eating meat." I nearly choke on my chocolate eye- I really hope my face doesn't give away what I'm thinking, but he actually collects bugs?

"Same- Well, I'm not really fully Vegetarian. Sometimes I cheat and eat pepperoni pizza or chicken nuggets- No red meat. But, I'm completely anti animal cruelty." I cough. "Which I ironic, because the images that slaughterhouses have scarred into my brain." I cringe, not in the mood for the chocolate anymore. He smirks at me. "So, what else do you like to do?" I shrug, "Psh, I dunno. Listen to music, I guess. I don't do much else. I'm lazy." He laughs. 

"Aren't we all? What kind of music you into?" Well if it isn't obvious, "Anything I can nod my head to, really. Metallica, Dead Kennedys, Led Zeppelin, Ozzy Osbourne, the Ramones, and so on." I say as I pull on a blade of grass, ripping it from the ground, then pulling on another.

He grins widely, "Rad!" The 'can-definetly-be-heard-from-Africa' bells rings, vibrating my poor eardrums. We both stand up as I pop the WarHead into my mouth. I pucker up my lips as the sour taste tingles my entire mouth. "See you in fourth." He laughs as he speeds off to his class. 

"See you in fourth." I whisper to the wind as I walk to my third block class.

* * *

walk out of the school, my heart pumping excitedly at the thought of returning to my new home. I stop at the entrance of the courtyard, where Frank had told me to meet him. He supposedly lives near me, so I get to have someone to talk to as I walk home. I look around to see a girl in a skin tight tanktop and skin tight leggings that everyone is hanging around, causing Frank to get stuck behind them. 

I walk through the crowd, grab Frank by the arm, and drag him back through the crowd. "Who's that?" I ask. Frank screws up his face, "Kimberly Williams. She's not necessarily rude, but she's the biggest homophobic bitch in the school."

I laugh, "Oh, really?" Frank nods. "Maybe I should go over there and talk to her..." Frank smiles, "I dare you to kiss her on the cheek. I double dog dare you." I smile back at him deviously. "Okay." I state simply, before walking over to her where the crowd has basically completely gone away. 

"Hi, Kimberly, right?" I smile. She nods, returning the favour. "I'm Annie, I moved here about two weeks ago." 

"Well, welcome to town, Annie." She smiles. I laugh a little, "I just wanted to come say, that you seem really nice and you are gorgeous." She cocks her head at me, before I move forward and chastely plant a kiss on her cheek. She shrieks, screwing up her face as I laugh, "That's gross! Oh my god!" She rubs her cheek violently before storming off to the parking lot. 

I turn back around to Frank who's going into hysterics along with me. "Oh my god! The look on her face, man!" Frank exclaims. We continue to giggle as we walk away from the school and onto the sidewalk.

"So, you live near me?" I ask. He shrugs, "Can't hurt walking you home though." I smile, flattered. "What, no one's ever walked home with you before?" I shake my head. 

"Guys, even some girls, that I knew in Kansas didn't dare to walk me home. I mean, with my dad and all, I wouldn't either..." I trail off, "But, I'm not in Kansas anymore." Frank nods. "You like it here? I mean, there's not much to Jersey but..."

"Oh, yeah! You've asked me this before." I laugh. "I just wanna make sure you like it here, is all." He states. "Well, thanks. It's much appreciated." I smile.

"Don't mention it, you're really the only girl that isn't a bitch here." I laugh, "I try, Frank. I try." We walk down the last stretch allowing my house to peak over the hill. I scrunch up my face. "That right there's my house." I state, pointing to the large estate. Frank's eyes widen, "You live there?"

"Yeah... Things are a lot different here; I mean, this house is huge. My mom and stepdad are basically rich. It's riduculous, and I don't think I like it." I drone. 

"I probably wouldn't like it either, dropping everything, for this apple-pie shit? No, no not for me." Frank laughs. I smile slightly, but it fades as we get closer to my house. My mother is home.

We stop in front of my house and stare at him awkwardly in silence. "Thanks for walking with me, I guess." He nods, "Don't mention it." I bite my lip, wishing he could come inside as well. I see my mom peek through the blinds, her eyes fixating on both Frank and I.

"You should come in some time, today if you like?" I hope he can come inside, I'm not usually clingy, but I feel out of place here. "Uh, I can't. I have to go help my mom clean up." He blurts.

My face drops, "Oh, okay. See ya' tomorrow." He nods. "See ya' tomorrow."

I walk up the driveway, taking every bit of time I can. My mom swings the door open and ushers me inside. I furrow my eyebrows, throwing my backpack down beside the couch. "Good afternoon, Annie." Lucy says in her thick accent. I nod, walking into the kitchen. "How was your day?" 

"Good, good. How was yours?" I ask in return. "Mine was nice, thank you." 

Silence takes over the conversation that almost happened. I open the fridge and skim over all the foods, finding nothing satisfying. I look over to the fruits and grab small granny smith apple. I rub it off on my shirt the take a large bite out of it, my eye twitching at it's tartness. "So, who was that boy that was with you?" Lucy asks. I turn around and grab the newspaper on the counter. "My friend...why?" She nods. 

"I don't like him." She states. I shoot her a look, taking another large bite from the apple. "And?" I ask. 

"I don't want you hanging out with him. I don't want him hanging out with you, and I certainly don't want him here." I cannot believe her. "Really? He's no different than me, Lucy." 

"Oh, really? Then I really don't want him here." I gasp at her. "I really expected different from you, Angela. Ever since you got here, you've been nothing but chaos. I thought that you would be a shining star, my picture frame daughter. I really regret bringing you here, right about now. Hell, I regret giving you up to your father. He's the reason you're so unruly and boorish, he's the reason you're a hunter." She spits. Anger builds up, burning my diaphragm, waiting to be expelled. 

"How did you find out?" She lifts up the rug, showing the Devil's Trap that I painted under it. "Every opening, salted. Every rug, painted." She frowns, "I wanted a better life for you." 

"Wanted a better life for me?" I scoff, "You left me. If you wanted a better life for me, you would have kept me. Fortunately, you didn't." I smile, causing her to gasp. I take the newspaper, trashing the rest of the apple, and strut to the staircase. "You're going to get you act together, or you will face the consequences." She threatens. I laugh, "Go ahead, take it all away. You've already basically done that anyways."

"I gave you everything, you could at least be grateful!" She shouts. "I am grateful, trust me. But that doesn't mean I like it." She lets out an angry grunt before dropping down into a chair and burying her face in her hands. 

I walk the rest of the way up the spiraling stairs, stopping at the top and looking down at her as her stressed face looks up at mine. "I wish I were sorry." I state quietly before retreating to my room.


	4. Imagine

I walk into the house, grabbing the newspaper from the doormat. Luckily, Lucy isn't home yet. Things between me and her haven't been too well lately, so I've been spending a lot of time at Frank's house. I sit down on the loveseat and flip open the news paper to the missing people and the obituaries, but instead my attention is drawn to the inside headline. "THREE NEW CHILDREN ADMITTED INTO THE HOSPITAL WITH AN UNKNOWN SICKNESS." 

"Three kids have been added onto the list of children that have been admitted to Capital Health Regional Medical Center in Trenton this week. This adds up to six kids, two have fallen into comatose, one has developed pneumonia, the other three are lethargic with weakened immune systems. The doctors cannot seem to find a reason as to why these kids are so drained." Weakened immune systems and comas, huh? Sounds familiar - actually I think Dad killed one. 

I grip the newspaper and run up the stairs, nearly tripping in the process. I open the door and walk to my mattress. I lift up with edge of the soft material and grab my book of worn out leather. I always hide my book under my mattress, in hopes that no one will look under there. I really have no other place to hide it. I've had this book ever since I started hunting. It's got basically everything my grandpa's had in it, from different types of monsters to what I had last Thanksgiving. I place the book and newspaper on my bed, then grab one of my cd's from the media tower and throw it in the player. S'probably one of the mixtapes Sam taught me to make, I never did label them. They just play songs at random. 

"Something's on my mind, it's been for quite sometime. It's time I'm onto you..." The player belts out. I flop down on my bed and flip begin to through the thin pages of my book. It's kind of like the bible, thin pages, old - except the bible doesn't tell every truth and my book does. "I've had this burning in my guts now for so long, my belly's aching now to say." I sing softly, stopping on the Shtriga page in my book. 

I choose not to read, instead mark the page. I do want to thing about hunting, but I also don't. This is the first time I'm actually on my own. I can't imagine doing it without my dad telling me what to do, or how to do it, or getting advice from him. Sometimes I wonder why monsters have to exsist. Imagine if they didn't? Or imagine if they were all good, like didn't kill people.

I shake my head, flinging the thoughts aside with a chuckle. "Imagine if monsters didn't exist.." I mumble, jotting down a note to myself so that I don't forget to read the page. "Imagine if essays didn't exist..now I'm talkin'" Friggin' English and it's stupid essays on stories no one cares about.

I grab my phone, yes my phone, from under my pillow. Two missed texts from Frank. "Maybe I could use Frank as bait." I laugh, opening up our messages. 'You can come over tonight if you want' 'Mom's making cheese pizza for dinner, so you can stay.' Cheese, cheese only? Damn you, Frank, and your full[on Vegetarianism. 'okay' I type. Hope his mom doesn't mind me staying over, I'll probably end up crashing on the basement couch.

I shove my phone into my back pocket, then close and shove my book back into the middle of my mattress. "Cheap thrills, anadins, aspros anything - you're condemned to eternal bullsh-" I turn off the player and grab my duffle. I put a flannel and some jeans into the bottom along with the knife Sam gave me then pull the strings. "Breaking stereotypical woman issues here, I haven't taken more than a minute getting my shit together." I grab my jacket and lock my door behind me, then run down the stairs. Not risking anyone coming in my room and snooping around again. 

I leave Lucy and Hank a note, telling them not to wait up for me. They should just assume now that if I'm not home, then I'm most likely at Frank's. Frank's mom is basically always expecting me over there, she's really a sweetheart...Frank doesn't think so, but that's what every teenager says about their own mom, right?

I walk down the street, humming some tune from some show I watched last night. It's very convenient that Frank doesn't live too far away, he lives in the neighbourhood beside mine, which is maybe half a mile away. The cold air swoops around me, causing me to zip up my jacket halfway. I step over a few puddles before entering the familiar neighbourhood I visited just a few days ago. I smile deeply before walking up the driveway and knocking on the door. I sit for a few seconds, but there's not answer. I knock again... No answer. "Okay..?" 

I walk around to the side of the house, knowing that there's a basement window, I drop down onto the grass and peek in. I smile, finding Frank playing Drown on his guitar. I push the window open and throw my bag in first. Then I scoot my legs in and begin to drop down, stopping at my ass. "Oo." I grunt, forcing myself further and hitting my breasts on the top of the window. "Dammit." I groan, landing on the ground, on my feet surprisingly, earning laughs from Frank. "Buongiorno!"

"Good afternoon, amico!" He smiles, putting his guitar on it's stand. "You stayin' for dinner?" 

I nod, "Yeah, tonight too." I sit down on the couch, directly on a lump. "Nice, you should just start living here, you've been spending most of your time over here." 

"Your ouse basically is my home. I'm like the Hyde to your Eric." I smile, shifting curiously. "Basically...you and Zeppelin." He laughs.

"Hey, hey... Zeppelin is like...like when you get extra macaroni, amazing." I object. "Sure, sure. I'm 'unna go get us some drinks." Frank walks up the stairs and I lift up the fuzzy couch cushion. "A book?" I murmur. I grab the leather book that I had just been sitting on and examen it. It's just like the one I've got, leather and old. 

Letting my nosy side get to me, I flip open to the marked page. I stare at the opened page with wide eyes, "Shtriga: Shtrigas are these witches who've remained immortal over centuries by suc..." I slam the book shut and throw it back under the cushion when I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. I look around awkwardly. "Here." He hands me a rootbeer, my favourite. "Thanks, man." 

"How long have you had that set?" I ask, referencing to the drumset behind the couch. He shrugs. "Awhile, I guess. It's an old band member's set. He left it when the band broke up," He sips his rootbeer, "I'm thinking about pawning it." I furrow my eyebrows.

"Don't pawn it!" I object respectfully. Frank cocks an eyebrow, "What you play?" I sway left to right. "A bit, yeah. I used to play a lot, pretty well actually." 

"Hm," He takes another sip, "I guess I won't pawn it..." I smile cheekily at him. "-but, only if you play something for me." 

I nearly choke on my soda. "Hahaha, you're funny." I claim sarcastically. "I mean, pawning it is always another option plus I get-" I cut him off my groaning. 

"I'll play you something, but I can't promise it'll be good...I'm like the truck sitting in my Dad's garage; ninety percent rusty." I claim, getting up and walking over to the almost dusty set. With a crack of my knuckles, I take the sticks from the snare. I glance at Frank, who's staring at me intuitively, and smile. I start playing Over The Hills And Far Away, slowly, but surely. 

I pick up to normal speed and a smile is planted on my face. Frank laughs. I continue to play, before missing a few beats and stopping - frustrated. "That was nice!" He claps. "Was it?" I doubt, sitting the sticks back where they belong. "Hell yeah!" 

I notice a few comics that are scattered on the coffee table, so I grab one then return to my lukewarm seat on the couch. "Well, thanks." I smile. He nods, getting up and going to his radio. "Mix?" He asks, grabbing one of his mixtapes.

"Mix." I concur. He put the cd into the radio and grabs his notebook before sitting back down on the couch. "Y'do that essay Mrs. Westboroh assigned?" I shake my head, "Nah, I'll do it on Sunday." I look up, "Why? You doing it?" He shakes his head. 

"Drawing or whatever, I don't exactly know." He chuckles. Silence takes over our small conversation as the beginning piano notes of Imagine replace the air. I sit horizontally on the couch with my legs bent so my comic has a place to rest, it's a Superman starred comic. Ambush Bug is supposed to be in here...hopefully he is. I love Ambush Bug. 

"...you may say I'm a dreamer. But I'm not the only one." Frank sings, his voice thick like honey. "I hope some day you'll join us... And the world will be one." I smile, humming along. It's too bad hunting isn't like this.

"Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can... No need for greed or hunger. A brotherhood of man..." If only, my friend, if only. "Imagine all the people, sharing the world." Too bad we can't all live together. Imagine living beside them, imagine not having to kill them, that'd be great. I wonder if Frank thinks so. 

I look up at him, singing and scribbling about. "You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one." Uncle Sam always did believe that we didn't have to kill him. He believed that they were fine, that they choose whether they're a monster or not. Sometimes I wonder if Dad thinks about it, he kills without thought it seems.

"I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will live as one..."


End file.
